


acquiesce

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "I remember promising my - friend - that I wouldn't go out," he rasped, taking a sip of the hot tea with a discerning expression before he brought it to his lips again.She sighed and patted his shoulder. "You should take better care of yourself."He laughed hoarsely. "Believe it or not, I've been trying."





	acquiesce

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notmadderred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmadderred/gifts).

> Ohh, I loved these prompts so much, I varied a little on the 'injury' but I hope this doesn't disappoint! Thanks so much for sharing your inspiration, notmadderred!
> 
> **Prompt:**  
_Matt gets injured while on patrol. Someone he isn't expecting comes to his rescue and patches him up._

  
"Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?"

Matt raised his hand to give his boyfriend the middle finger but it didn't carry the weight he wanted when he collapsed into a coughing fit in his fetal position of woe.

_Boyfriend_. Wasn't that a kick in the guts - boyfriend. He'd barely had a relationship with a woman long enough to call her 'girlfriend' but here he was in the third official week with an oddly doting boyfriend and it was - oddly working. It was unexpected and completely inappropriate - dating an ex-client was one thing but dating a guy who racked up warrants like some people racked up airline miles. The fact that their last attempts at dating were with the same woman only added another level of angst to the boyfriend label.

Neither of them had been Karen's official _boyfriend_ but here they were seeing each other on a regular enough basis to have to admit that it was serious.

Karen took it a lot better than Foggy, hell, a lot better than everyone since she didn't think Frank was a psychopath; but Matt heard the hurt thump in her pulse every time she saw them together. Matt always took Frank's arm for guidance and Frank kissed Matt's cheek before he greeted anyone else in the area when they were in public.

It took a lot of getting used to, not his friends hating his significant other - that was actually normal - but the rest of it. Frank asked him about his day, cared about his cases and laughed at his shitty jokes. And Matt rubbed his shoulders and listened to his stories about the construction sight, judged his fruit choices at the grocery store and hated on his pun game.

It was comfortable in a way he didn't know how to handle.

"Tea," Frank said, the couch and blanket tower sinking from his weight as he pulled the soft flannel from his face to free his mouth. "Your fever's still going up."

He knew how to handle coddling, though, boyfriend or not. "Fuck your tea. Coffee?" It would help if he could talk without sandpaper scratching the inside of his throat.

"It's after eleven," Frank replied, pressing the back of his hand to his cheek and forehead. Matt didn't pull away from the touch despite the heat but he did bite at his thumb when he got too close to his mouth. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, it would be awesome if you could nap until - "

"Until you get back with the mutt," Matt said, just to get that disgruntled huff he expected. "Sorry, your darling Izzie. I'll be fine, I don't need - "

"A babysitter or a nanny or a nurse, I know - and you don't need a kind, loving boyfriend to make sure you don't die of consumption either," Frank said.

"I don't know why you think I'm going to take off as soon as you disappear," Matt pouted, taking a petulant sip of tea. Yuck, artificial sweetener.

"Because your self-preservation is set to zero and you're fever's - "

"Still going up, you said," Matt finished as the last of his voice gave up. Tea, _fine_, ugh.

* * *

Bess Mahoney enjoyed Atlantic City, usually when she was winning but sometimes when she was losing, too depending on the company.

Today had not been an enjoyable trip no matter how many chips she'd cashed in. Harriet was back on her bullshit and Gretchen was talking up all the best parts about single life. As if Harriet could saunter back onto the dating scene at 72 as easily as their 35 year old gambling addict driver. Gretchen was only allowed to watch, not participate but her enthusiastic advice should stay limited to the craps table and not the bedroom.

"Divorce is too expensive, maybe I'll refill his Cialis prescription after all," Harriet yawned after Gretchen pulled away from the corner.

At least Harriet hadn't fallen for the young woman's spiel. "You want me to walk you up?"

"God, no, that'll wake up Denny for sure and I've got to put this cash back in the cruise jar before he knows I snitched it," Harriet winked.

Bess walked her to the stoop anyway and was glad of it when she saw a familiar pair of boots twitching from the edge of the alley.

Harriet clutched her hand to her chest in shock but Bess knew better. "You got your phone?"

"I'm not letting you call - "

"For the flashlight, Bess, I know the rules - you don't call the cops until he tells you to," Harriet said, holding out her hand.

* * *

"That cough sounds rough, you sure it's not the TB?" Harriet asked, reaching out to check his cheek as if Bess hadn't just done that. She swatted her friend's hand away.

She tried to think of the last time she'd seen the Devil in his daylight habitat - he'd been dressed in a suit that actually fit him and was rosy with health. "More like he's shit at tending to himself. Help me get him inside - "

"My place is closer," Harriet said. "And my son's not a Pig."

Bess sighed. "Daredevil and I are acquainted already, Harriet, he'll punch you or your old man in the face if he wakes up with you looming over him."

Harriet glared at her. "We won't turn him in," she said pointedly.

"He won't believe that and I've already proved it," Bess frowned.

"Fine, but I'm bringing over my spare oxygen tank, see if you can get some clean air into him."

She couldn't argue with a good idea and Harriet was already pulling on one of the ropes to lift the limp Devil off the hard pavement. Bess took his other arm and between the two of them, they carried - okay, dragged, but it wasn't far - him into her house.

"At least he's got some meat on his bones these days, somebody's been feeding him up," Harriet commented after Bess had the ropes unknotted from his hands and was checking him over - respectfully - for injuries.

She glared at her friend, pulling the shirt back down over his muscular stomach. "I've got it from here, Harriet - thanks for the tank, I'll return it in the morning."

"Yes, I expect a full update. Text me if you need anything, don't call," Harriet reminded her with a wave.

Bess went to work, peeling Matt Murdock's mask back and clucking in disappointment at his fever-flushed face. A thermometer to the ear confirmed it more than the persistent wheeze in each breath but as long as he kept breathing and didn't ninja chop her when he woke up - she was going to look after the devil like he looked after the neighborhood.

* * *

A couple of hours into her vigil, Matt was still out cold and his fever seemed to max out before she had him dressed in his freshly laundered clothes.

She heard something from the kitchen and had a rush of panic. The gig was up.

She checked Matt again before steadying herself for a scolding. She was going to give Brett a damned good one, did he have any idea what time it was?

Bess closed the door to the bedroom and turned to face her son. "I thought you were out of town for the weekend."

Brett finished chewing his bit of snitched leftovers before answering. "Change of plans." He nodded to the closed door. "And I thought you were done using Tinder."

Child abuse didn't count when they were over eighteen and she made sure her glare was sharp enough to cut when he laughed through his apology. It was one time. ONE TIME.

"I thought you were out for the night," Brett said, kissing her cheek and pretending to be a good boy. She elbowed him hard when he leaned too close to the door trying to snoop.

"Gretchen had to be back before her daughter's curfew so she could bust her," Bess said. "Coffee?"

"Stopped in for a bite, I'm just getting off shift. Officer Donovan's water broke three weeks early so our meticulous PTO planning is gone to shit. Eight pounds, six ounces and I already donated for the gift card so don't start," Brett said.

* * *

Once Brett was well fed and sent on his way, she hurried back to her room and caught Matt halfway to the window with his boots in his hand. She put down the tea she'd dosed with honey.

"Freeze."

"Mrs. Mahoney - "

"We can talk when you're back in the bed."

She used her mom voice and wasn't disappointed when it worked on the chastened vigilante who shuffled back to the bed in socked feet.

She checked his temp, high but not as high as when she had to leave, and asked questions if he was hurt anywhere else when she had him obediently holding the oxygen over his mouth and nose.

"I don't know why I went out. I didn't mean to," Matt said, looking miserable without his glasses to hide his wild eyes.

"So you accidentally dressed up and wrapped your fists?" She asked, doubtful.

"I remember promising my - friend - that I wouldn't go out," he rasped, taking a sip of the hot tea with a discerning expression before he brought it to his lips again. "I don't remember - "

Bess sighed and patted his shoulder. "You should take better care of yourself."

He laughed hoarsely. "Believe it or not, I've been trying."

"I'll go with not," Bess said. "Do you need to call your friend?"

"Yes, but you took my stuff," he replied with an annoyed pout. "Am I allowed to leave if get a ride?"

She scanned him. "You were unconscious a while and you're running a worrisome temperature so I guess that depends on what you're planning on doing when you leave."

"Go straight to bed?"

It was almost the right answer but missing several important elements.

"Mrs. Mahoney, I appreciate your help tonight, so much, but - "

"But you have no concept of staying down, yes, I'm aware. Are you calling Foggy?" She took the phone from her pocket. His expression answered for him.

"He's out of town and for the record, please never call him unless you find me dead in the gutter," Matt said.

She didn't like the sound of that. "I thought you boys were on the mend." She tapped her finger to encourage him to drink the tea before it cooled too much.

"We're fine, we're just having a polite disagreement. I should check in, even if I can't leave without permission," he said. He knew too well how to make 'sad puppy eyes' without functional vision and it was no question that he was every bit of a heartbreaker as advertised.

The phone must have been on the lowest possible volume but someone answered when he raised it to his ear. "Hey - no, it's - stop. I'm not kidnapped or arrested, I'm safe."

Bess had a rush of guilt that the Devil had someone actively worried about him. Maybe she should have used his phone instead of waiting for him to wake up.

"How do you even know? Oh. He's there? I'm - no, no, well, yes. A friend found me - " Matt frowned sharply and turned his head toward her, offering the phone. "I'm sorry, she wants to talk to you."

She took the phone and wondered if he could 'sense' her smug look. "Hello?"

"What kind of friend?" A woman demanded.

"Hello. My name's Bess Mahoney, I've known Matthew for years. With whom am I speaking?"

The woman didn't seem to expect that answer and was silent. "I'm - his mother," she admitted finally. "Sister Maggie Murdock, is he all right? Hurt?"

Bess smiled at Matt's disgruntled expression. "He's quite sick, bronchitis with maybe a tinge of pneumonia. We found him unconscious in the street, my friend didn't know his real identity so I scared her away."

"Who?" Matt asked.

"Harriet," Bess replied and the Sister huffed in her ear.

"Oh, she'll have called the whole neighborhood before dawn. Thank you for your discretion. May I send someone to collect my wayward spawn?"

Bess frowned but it seemed to be a joke between her and Matt because he seemed comforted by her label. He was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, after all.

"His friend says he's running a fever and he used to sleepwalk, wandered right out of the dormitory when he was twelve, had the Mother Superior in a tizzy."

Matt held out his hand for the phone and Bess passed it to him before the Sister gave up any more of his secrets. She said a silent prayer of thanks for being the one to find him before he wandered into worse danger than nosy neighbors.

* * *

"Foggy doesn't like my boyfriend," Matt said as they waited for his ride.

Bess laughed, relaxing. "Oh, then a normal disagreement. A lot of us were happy when you two reopened the firm, everything was out of sync with you on the outs. I'm sure he still wants to know if you're sick."

Matt sighed. "Allegedly, I am a horrible patient and not his problem if I have someone else to deal with it."

"And your mother?"

"A new development," Matt shrugged. "We go to mass together and have coffee but - we have to maintain boundaries."

Bess hummed. "She's your mother."

Matt patted her hand. "No offense, Mrs. Mahoney, but mothers are terrifying so I'll hang on to my dad's memory and keep a safe distance from maternal instincts."

* * *

Matt tried not to complain about the dog licking his socks when Frank was still listing off the many reasons he wanted to give him a tracking chip.

Bess Mahoney was a gift to humanity and he wished he would have asked what kind of honey he'd used in her tea before he'd been rescued from her polite coddling and forced into Frank's currently impolite coddling.

"You shouldn't be mean to me when I'm sick," Matt said finally, hoping he looked pathetic enough for Frank to join him on the couch - and take Izzie's attention off his feet.

"I'm not being mean because you're sick, I'm angry because you're stupid."

He flopped his head back on the couch. "I don't remember going outside."

"You probably heard something and flipped your lizard brain on," Frank conceded, the sound of metal dishes clanking to the floor successfully catching Izzie's attention and sending her claws scrabbling across the floor.

Matt relaxed a notch. "So you're not mad?"

"Not mad. Disappointed," Frank said, swatting at his hair when he slumped back into the blankets. "You scared the shit out of me, your Ma, too."

"I'm not entirely comfortable with your friendship with my mother," Matt replied.

"Well, I'm not entirely comfortable with your attitude in general but we're going to keep working on it," Frank said, looping an arm around him and settling onto the couch. "Will you try and sleep or do you have to be in a stranger's bed for that?"

"Mrs. Mahoney isn't a stranger, she's a friend," Matt protested, leaning his head on Frank's shoulder.

"Her son's a cop," Frank grumbled.

"Her son is Foggy's friend," Matt protested. "Bess is mine."

"Oh, she's Bess, now," Frank teased. "I'll keep that in mind."


End file.
